Kristin Lavransdatter Part 53

Simon wondered why the reunion with his brother-in-law had upset him so greatly. Perhaps it was the small, confining tower room where Erlend had invited him to take a seat on the bed, which stretched from one wall to the other and filled half the room, or Erlend's slender, dignified form as he stood at the small slit in the wall which allowed in light. Erlend looked unafraid, his eyes alert, unclouded by either fear or hope. He was a vigorous, cool, and manly figure now that all the constraining webs of flirtations and foolishness over women had been swept away from him. And yet it was women and his dealings in love that had landed him there, along with all his bold plans, which came to an end before he had even brought them to light. But Erlend didn't seem to be thinking about that. He stood there like a man who had risked the most daring of ventures and lost, and then knew how to bear the defeat in a manly and stalwart fashion.

And his surprised and joyous grat.i.tude when he saw his brother-in-law suited him well.

Simon had said, "Do you remember, brother-in-law, that night we kept watch at our father-in-law's bedside? We shook hands, and Lavrans placed his hand on top. We promised each other and him that all our days we would stand together as brothers."

"Yes." Erlend's smile lit up his face. "Yes, Lavrans probably never thought that you would ever be in need of my my help." help."

"It was more likely," said Simon unperturbed, "that he meant you, you, in your circ.u.mstances, might be of support to in your circ.u.mstances, might be of support to me, me, and not that you should need and not that you should need my my help." help."

Erlend smiled again. "Lavrans was a wise man, Simon. And as strange as it may sound, I know he was fond of me."

Simon thought that G.o.d knew it might indeed seem strange, but now he himself-in spite of all he knew about Erlend and in spite of everything the other man had done to him-couldn't help feeling a brotherly tenderness toward Kristin's husband. Then Erlend had asked about her.

Simon told him how he had found her: ill and very frightened for her husband. Olav Hermanssn had promised to seek permission for her to come to see him as soon as Sir Baard returned home.

"Not before she's well," said Erlend quickly, his voice fearful. An odd, almost girlish blush spread across his tan, unshaven face. "That's the only thing I fear, Simon-that I won't be able to bear it when I see her!"

But after a moment he said calmly, "I know you will stand steadfast at her side if she is to be widowed this year. They won't be poor, at any rate-she and the children-with her inheritance from Lavrans. And then she'll have you close at hand when she goes to live at Jrundgaard."

The day after the Feast of the Birth of Mary, the lord chancellor, Ivar Ogmundssn, arrived in Nidaros. A court was now appointed, consisting of twelve of the king's retainers from the northern districts, to decide Erlend Nikulaussn's case. Sir Finn Ogmundssn, the lord chancellor's brother, was chosen to present the charges against him.

In the meantime, during the summer, Haftor Olavssn of G.o.dy had killed himself, using the little dagger that every prisoner was allowed to keep to cut up his food. Imprisonment had apparently taken such a toll on Haftor that he hadn't had his full wits about him. When Erlend heard of this, he told Simon that at least now he wouldn't have to worry about what Haftor might say. And yet he was clearly shaken.

Gradually it became a habit for the guard to leave the room on an errand whenever Simon or Kristin was visiting Erlend. Both of them realized, and mentioned it to each other, that Erlend's first and foremost thought was to make it through the court case without revealing his accomplices. One day he said this quite openly to Simon. He had promised every man who had conspired with him that he would rather cut off his own hand than reveal anything, if it came to that; "and I have never yet betrayed anyone who has put their trust in me." Simon stared at the man. Erlend's eyes were blue and clear; it was obvious that he truly believed this about himself.

The king's envoys had not succeeded in tracking down anyone else who had taken part in Erlend's plot other than the two brothers, Greip and Torvard Toressn of Mre. And they refused to admit to knowing anything but that Erlend and several other men planned to persuade Lady Ingebjrg to allow Prince Haakon Knutssn to be educated in Norway. Later the chieftains would propose to King Magnus that it would be of benefit to both of his kingdoms if he gave his half-brother sovereignty in Norway.

Borgar and Guttorm Trondssn had been fortunate enough to escape from the king's castle at Vey. No one knew how, but people guessed that Borgar had been helped by a woman. He was very handsome and quite impetuous. Ivar of Sundbu was still being held in Mjs Castle; the brothers had apparently kept young Haavard out of their plans.

At the same time the meeting of the retainers was being held at the king's palace, the archbishop convened a concilium concilium at his estate. Simon was a man with many friends and acquaintances, and so he could report to Kristin what was happening. Everyone thought that Erlend would be banished and would have to forfeit his properties to the king. Erlend also thought this was how things would turn out, and he was in good spirits; he was planning to go to Denmark. As things now stood in that country, there were always opportunities open for a man who was fit and skilled with weapons, and Lady Ingebjrg would surely embrace his wife as her kinswoman and keep her at her side with the proper honors. Simon would have to take care of the children, although Erlend wanted to take his two eldest sons with him. at his estate. Simon was a man with many friends and acquaintances, and so he could report to Kristin what was happening. Everyone thought that Erlend would be banished and would have to forfeit his properties to the king. Erlend also thought this was how things would turn out, and he was in good spirits; he was planning to go to Denmark. As things now stood in that country, there were always opportunities open for a man who was fit and skilled with weapons, and Lady Ingebjrg would surely embrace his wife as her kinswoman and keep her at her side with the proper honors. Simon would have to take care of the children, although Erlend wanted to take his two eldest sons with him.

Kristin hadn't been outside of Nidaros for a single day in all this time, nor had she seen her children, except for Naakkve and Bjrg ulf. They had come riding up to the estate one evening alone. Their mother kept them with her for several days, but then she sent them to Raasvold, where Fru Gunna had taken in the younger boys.

This was in accordance with Erlend's wishes. And she was afraid of the thoughts that might rise up in her mind if she should see her sons around her, hear their questions, and try to explain matters to them. She struggled to push aside all thoughts and memories of her marriage years spent at Husaby, which had been so rich that now they seemed to her like a great calm-the way there is a kind of calm over the waves of the sea if viewed from high enough up a mountain ridge. The swells that surge after each other seem eternal, melding into one; that was the way life had rippled through her soul during that vast span of years.

Now things were once again the way they had been in her youth, when she had put her faith in Erlend, defying everyone and everything. Once again her life had become one long waiting from hour to hour, in between the times when she was allowed to see her husband, to sit at his side on the bed in the tower room of the king's palace, and to talk with him calmly-until they happened to be alone for a few moments. Then they would throw themselves into each other's arms with endless, pa.s.sionate kisses and wild embraces.

At other times she would sit in Christ Church for hours on end. She would sink to her knees and stare up at Saint Olav's golden shrine behind the gratings of the choir. Lord, I am his wife. Lord, I stood by him when I was his, in sin and iniquity. By the grace of G.o.d, we two unworthy souls were joined together in holy marriage. Branded by the flames of sin, bowed by the burdens of sin, we came together at the portals of G.o.d's house; together we received the Savior's Host from the hand of the priest. Should I now complain if G.o.d is testing my faith? Should I now think about anything else but that I am his wife and he is my husband for as long as we both shall live?

On the Thursday before Michaelmas the meeting of the royal retainers was held and sentence was p.r.o.nounced over Erlend Niku laussn of Husaby. He was found guilty of attempting to steal land and subjects from King Magnus, of inciting opposition to the king throughout the country, and of attempting to bring into Norway mercenary forces from abroad. After looking into similar cases from the past, the judges found that Erlend Nikulaussn should forfeit his life and his property at the hands of King Magnus.

Arne Gjavvaldssn brought the news to Simon Darre and Kristin Lavransdatter at Nikulausgaard. He had been present at the meeting.

Erlend had not tried to prove his innocence. In a clear, firm voice he had acknowledged his intentions: With these undertakings he had sought to force King Magnus Eirikssn to grant the Crown of Norway to his young half-brother, Prince Haakon Knutssn Porse. Erlend had spoken eloquently, thought Arne. He had talked about the great hardships that had befallen his countrymen because for the past few years the king had spent little time within Norway's boundaries and had never seemed willing to appoint representatives who could rule justly and exercise royal authority. Because of the king's actions in Skaane, and because of the extravagance and inability to handle money matters shown by those men he listened to most, the people had been subjected to great burdens and poverty. And they never felt safe from new demands for aid and taxes above what was normally expected. Since the Norwegian knights and n.o.blemen had far fewer rights and freedom than the Swedish knighthood, it was difficult for the former to compete with the latter. And it was only reasonable that the young and imprudent man, King Magnus Eirikssn, should listen more to his Swedish lords and love them better, since they had more wealth and thus a greater ability to support him with men who were both armed and experienced in war.

Erlend and his allies had thought they could sense such strong feelings among the majority of their countrymen-the gentry, farmers, and townsmen in the north and west of Norway-that they were certain of finding full support if they could produce a royal rival who was as closely related to our dear lord, the blessed King Haakon, as the king who was now in power. Erlend had expected that his countrymen would rally around the plan to persuade King Magnus to allow his brother to a.s.sume the throne here, but Prince Haakon would have to swear to maintain peace and brotherhood with King Magnus, to protect the kingdom of Norway in accordance with the ancient land boundaries, to a.s.sert the rights of G.o.d's Church, to enforce the laws and customs of the land according to ancient tradition, along with the rights and freedoms of the peasants and townsmen, as well as to fend off any incursion of foreigners into the realm. It had been the intention of Erlend and his friends to present this plan to King Magnus in a peaceful manner. And yet it had always been the right of Norwegian farmers and chieftains in the past to reject any king who attempted to rule unlawfully.

As to the actions of Ulf Saksesn in England and Scotland, Erlend said that Ulf's sole purpose had been to win favor there for Prince Haakon, if G.o.d should grant that he became king. No other Norwegian man had taken part in these endeavors except for Haftor Olavssn of G.o.dy-may G.o.d have mercy on his soul-the three sons of his kinsman Trond Gjesling of Sundbu, and Greip and Torvard Toressn of the Hatteberg lineage.

Erlend's speech had made a deep impression, said Arne Gjav valdssn. But in the end, when he mentioned that they had expected support from men of the Church, he then referred to the old rumors from the days when King Magnus was growing up, and that had been unwise, thought Arne. The archbishop's representative had responded sharply: Archbishop Paal Baardsn, both now and when he was chancellor, felt great love for King Magnus because of his G.o.dly temperament, and people wanted to forget that these rumors had ever existed about their king. Now he was about to marry a maiden, the daughter of the Earl of Namur . . . so even if there had ever been any truth to the rumors, Magnus Eirikssn had now completely turned away from such interests.

Arne Gjavvaldssn had shown Simon Andressn the greatest friendship while he was in Nidaros. It was also Arne who now reminded Simon that Erlend had the right to appeal this sentence as having been unlawfully decided. According to the law books, the charge against Erlend had to be brought by one of his peers, but Sir Finn of Hestb was a knight, while Erlend was a n.o.bleman, but not a knight. Arne thought it was possible that a new court would find that Erlend could not be sentenced to a harsher punishment than banishment.

In terms of what Erlend had proposed, about the kind of sovereignty which he thought would serve the country best . . . that had sounded fine indeed. And everyone knew where the man was who would like to take the helm and steer that course while the new king was underage. Arne scratched the gray stubble of his beard and gave Simon a sidelong glance.

"No one has heard from Erling Vidkunssn or spoken to him all summer?" asked Simon, also keeping his voice low.

"No. Well, I've heard he says he's fallen out of favor with the king and is keeping out of all such matters. But it's been years since he could stand to sit at home for such a long time and listen to Fru Elin chattering. And people say his daughters are just as beautiful and just as foolish as their mother."

Erlend had listened to his sentence with a steadfast, calm expression, and he had greeted the gentlemen of the royal retinue in just as courteous, open, and splendid a manner when he was led out as when he had been escorted in. He was calm and cheerful when Kristin and Simon were allowed to talk to him the following day. Arne Gjavvaldssn was with them, and Erlend said that he would take Arne's advice.

"I could never persuade Kristin here to come with me to Denmark before," he said, putting an arm around his wife's waist. "And I always had such a desire to journey out into the world with her. . . ." A tremor seemed to pa.s.s over his features, and suddenly he pressed an ardent kiss to her pale cheek, without concern for the two men who stood looking on.

Simon Andressn set off for Husaby to make arrangements for Kristin's personal possessions to be moved to Jrundgaard. He had also advised her to send the children to Gudbrandsdal at the same time.

Kristin said, "My sons will not leave their father's estate until they are driven from it."

"I wouldn't wait for that, if I were you," said Simon. "They're young; they can't fully understand these things. It would be better if you let them leave Husaby believing that they are merely going to visit their aunt and see their mother's property in the valley."

Erlend said that Simon was right about this. But in the end only Ivar and Skule traveled with their uncle south. Kristin didn't have the heart to send the two youngest boys so far away from her. When Lavrans and Munan were brought to her at the estate in town and she saw that the smallest didn't even recognize her, she broke down. Simon hadn't seen her shed a single tear since the first evening he arrived in Nidaros; now she wept and wept over Munan, who squirmed and wriggled in the crush of his mother's arms, wanting to go to his foster mother. And she wept over little Lavrans, who crept up into his mother's lap and put his arms around her neck and cried because she was crying. Now she would keep the two youngest with her, along with Gaute, who didn't want to go with Simon. She also thought it ill-advised to let the child out of her sight, since he had to bear a burden that was much too heavy for his age.

Sira Eiliv had brought the children to Nidaros. He had asked the archbishop for leave from his church and permission to visit his brother in Tautra; this was gladly granted to Erlend Niku laussn's house priest. Now he said that Kristin couldn't stay in town with so many children to care for, and he offered to take Naakkve and Bjrgulf out to the monastery.

On the last evening before the priest and the two boys were to depart-Simon had already left with the twins-Kristin made her confession to the pious and pure-hearted man who had been her spiritual father all these years. They sat together for hours, and Sira Eiliv impressed upon her heart that she must be humble and obedient toward G.o.d; patient, faithful, and loving toward her husband. She knelt before the bench where he sat. Then Sira Eiliv stood up and knelt at her side, still wearing the red stole which was a symbol of the yoke of Christ's love; he prayed long and fervently, without words. But she knew he was praying for the father and mother and the children and all the servants whose salvation he had striven so faithfully to encourage all these years.

The next day Kristin stood on the sh.o.r.e of Bratr and watched the lay brothers from Tautra set sail in the boat that would carry away the priest and her two eldest sons. On her way home she went over to the Minorites' church and stayed there until she felt strong enough to venture back to her own residence. And in the evening, when the two youngest were asleep, she sat with her spinning and told Gaute stories until it was his bedtime too.

CHAPTER 6.

ERLEND WAS HELD at the king's palace until almost Saint Clement's Day. Then messages and letters arrived stating that he was to be taken under safe conduct to meet with King Magnus. The king intended to celebrate Christmas at Baagahus that year.

Kristin grew terribly frightened. With unspeakable effort she had accustomed herself to feigning a calm demeanor while Erlend sat in prison, condemned to death. Now he would be taken far away to an uncertain fate. Much was said about the king, and among the circle of men who stood closest to him, her husband had no friends. Ivar Ogmundssn, who was now the chieftain of the castle at Baagahus, had spoken the harshest words regarding Erlend's treason. And he was supposedly further enraged at having heard once again some disrespectful remarks which Erlend had made about him.

But Erlend was in good spirits. Kristin could see that he didn't take their imminent separation lightly, but the long imprisonment had now begun to wear him down; he eagerly seized upon the prospect of a long sea voyage and seemed almost indifferent to everything else.

In a matter of three days everything was arranged, and Erlend sailed with Sir Finn's ship. Simon had promised to return to Nidaros before Advent, after he had taken care of some obligations at home. If there was any news before then, he had asked Kristin to send word to him, and he would come at once. Now she decided to travel south to visit him, and from there she would go to see the king-to fall at his feet and beg for mercy for her husband. She would gladly give all she possessed in return for his life.

Erlend had sold and mortgaged every part of his residence in Nidaros to various buyers; Nidarholm cloister now owned the main house, but Abbot Olav had written a kind letter to Kristin, offering her the use of the house for as long as she needed it. She was living there alone with one maid and Ulf Haldorssn-who had been released because they hadn't been able to prove anything against him-and his nephew, Haldor, who was Kristin's personal servant.

She sought Ulf's counsel, and at first he was rather doubtful. He thought it would be a difficult journey for her through the Dovre Range; a great deal of snow had fallen in the mountains. But when he saw the anguish of her soul, he advised her to go. Fru Gunna took the two youngest children out to Raasvold, but Gaute refused to be parted from his mother, and she didn't dare let the boy out of her sight up there in the north.

The weather was so severe when they came south to the Dovre Range that they followed Ulf's advice to leave their horses behind at Drivstuen and borrowed skis, prepared to spend the next night out in the open if need be. Kristin hadn't had skis on her feet since she was a child, so it was difficult for her to make progress, even though the men supported her as best they could. They reached no farther that day than halfway over the mountain, between Drivstuen and Hjerdkinn. When it began to grow dark, they had to seek shelter in a birch grove and dig themselves into the snow. At Toftar they managed to hire some horses, but there they ran into fog, and when they had descended partway into the valley, rain set in. When they rode into the courtyard of Formo several hours after dark, the wind was howling around the corners of the buildings, the river was roaring, and a great rushing and droning came from the forested slopes. The courtyard was a soggy mire, m.u.f.fling the sound of the horses' hooves. As the Sabbath had already begun at this hour on Sat.u.r.day evening, there was no sign of life on the large estate, and neither the servants nor the dogs seemed to have noticed their arrival.

Ulf pounded on the door to the main house with his spear; a serving man opened the door. A moment later Simon himself was standing in the entryway, broad and dark against the light behind him, holding a child in his arms. He pushed back the barking dogs. He gave a shout when he recognized his wife's sister, set the child down, and then pulled Kristin and Gaute inside as he helped them out of their soaked outer garments.

It was splendidly warm in the room, but the air seemed oppressive because it was a hearth room with a flat ceiling beneath the loft hall. And it was full of people; children and dogs were swarming from every corner. Then Kristin caught sight of both of her own small sons, their faces ruddy and warm and gleeful, behind the table on which a lighted candle stood. The two boys came forward and greeted their mother and brother a bit awkwardly; Kristin could see that they had arrived in the midst of everyone's merriment and fun. And the room was in great disarray. She stepped on crunching nutsh.e.l.ls at every turn-they were scattered all over the floor.

Simon sent his servants off to do ch.o.r.es, and the room was emptied of people-neighbors and their attendants, as well as most of the children and dogs. While he asked questions and listened to her replies, Simon fastened his shirt and tunic, which were open wide, revealing his bare, hairy chest. The children had brought him to such a state, he said apologetically. He was terribly disheveled; his belt was twisted around, his clothes and hands were dirty, his face was covered with soot, and his hair was full of straw and dust.

A few minutes later two serving women came in to take Kristin and Gaute over to Ramborg's women's house. A fire had been started in the fireplace, and several maids busily lit the candles, made up the beds, and helped her and the boy into dry clothes, while others set the table with food and drink. A half-grown maiden with silk-wrapped braids brought Kristin a frothy bowl of ale. The girl was Simon's eldest daughter, Arngjerd.

Then Simon came into the room. He had tidied himself up and now looked more as Kristin was used to seeing him, handsomely and splendidly dressed. He was leading his little daughter by the hand, and Ivar and Skule followed.

Kristin asked about her sister, and Simon replied that Ramborg had accompanied the Sundbu women down to Ringheim; Jostein had come to get his daughter, Helga, and then he wanted Dagny and Ramborg to come along too. He was such a merry, kind old man, and he had promised to take good care of the three young wives. Ramborg might stay there all winter. She was expecting a child around Saint Matthew's Day, and Simon had thought he might have to be away from home that winter, so she would be better off with her young kinswomen. No, it made no difference to the housekeeping here at Formo whether she was home or not, laughed Simon. He had never demanded that young Ramborg trouble herself with all that toil.

As to Kristin's plans, Simon said at once that he would travel south with her. He had so many kinsmen there, as well as his father's friends and his own from the past, that he hoped to be able to serve her better than he had in Nidaros. And there it would be easier for him to determine whether it would be wise for her to pay a visit to the king himself. He could be ready to travel in three or four days.

They attended ma.s.s together the next day, which was Sunday, and afterwards they visited Sira Eirik at his home at Romundgaard. The priest was old now. He received Kristin kindly and seemed very saddened by her troubling fate. Then they went over to Jrundgaard.

The buildings looked the same, and the rooms held the same beds, benches, and tables. It was now her property, and it seemed most likely that her sons would grow up here; this was also where she herself would one day lie down and close her eyes. But never had she felt so clearly as at this moment that life in this home had depended on her father and mother. No matter what they had struggled with in private, from them had streamed warmth, help, peace, and security to everyone else who lived there.

Uneasy and dejected as she now felt, it made her weary to listen to Simon talk about his own affairs: his manor and his children. She knew she was being unreasonable; he was willing to do all he could to help her. She realized how good it was of him to agree to leave his home during the Christmas season, and to be away from his wife, as things now stood. No doubt he was thinking a great deal about whether he might have a son. He had only the one child with Ramborg, even though they had been married six years. Kristin couldn't expect that he should take Erlend's and her misfortune so much to heart that he would forget all the joy he had from his own life. But it was strange to be there with him; he seemed so happy and warm and secure in his own home.

Without thinking, Kristin had a.s.sumed that Ulvhild Simonsdatter would be like her own little sister, for whom the child had been named-fair and fragile and pure. But Simon's little daughter was round and plump, with cheeks like apples and lips as red as a berry, lively gray eyes that looked like her father's in his youth, and lovely brown curls. Simon had the greatest love for his pretty, merry child, and he was proud of her bright chatter.

"Even though this girl is so hideous and wicked and naughty," he said, putting his hands around her chest and tumbling her around as he lifted her up into the air. "I think she must be a changeling that the trolls up here in the hills left in the cradle for her mother and me-such an ugly and loathsome child she is." Then he set her down abruptly and hastily made the sign of the cross over her three times, as if he were frightened by his own imprudent words.

Arngjerd, the daughter born of his maid, was not beautiful, but she looked kind and sensible, and Simon took her with him whenever he could. He was constantly praising her cleverness. Kristin had to look at everything in Arngjerd's marriage chest, at all she had spun and woven and st.i.tched as part of her dowry.

"When I place the hand of my daughter into the hand of a faithful husband," said Simon as he gazed after the child, "it will be one of the happiest days of my life."

To spare expenses and so that the journey might proceed faster, Kristin was to take along no maids, nor any servant other than Ulf Haldorssn. Two weeks before Christmas they left Formo, accompanied by Simon Andressn and his two young, vigorous men.

When they arrived in Oslo, Simon learned at once that the king would not be coming to Norway-he would apparently celebrate Christmas in Stockholm. Erlend was being held in the castle at Akersnes; the chieftain was away, so for the time being it would be impossible for any of them to see him. But the deputy royal treasurer, Olav Kyrning, promised to let Erlend know that they had come to town. Olav was quite friendly toward Simon and Kristin because his brother was married to Ramborg Aasmundsdatter of Skog, which made him distantly related to the daughters of Lavrans.

Ketil of Skog came to town and invited them to spend Christmas with him, but Kristin had no wish for noisy feasting as matters now stood for Erlend. And then Simon too refused to go, no matter how earnestly she begged him. Simon and Ketil knew each other, but Kristin had only met her uncle's son once since he had grown up.

Kristin and Simon had taken lodgings at the same residence where she had once been the guest of his parents, back when the two of them were betrothed, but this time they were staying in a different building. There were two beds in the main room; Kristin slept in one of them, Simon and Ulf slept in the other. The servants bedded down in the stable.

On Christmas Eve Kristin wanted to attend midnight ma.s.s at Nonneseter's church; she said it was because the sisters sang so beautifully. All five of them decided to go. The night was starry and clear, mild and lovely; it had snowed a little in the evening, so it was quite bright. When the bells began to ring from the churches, people came streaming out of all the houses, and Simon had to give Kristin his hand. Now and then he would cast a sidelong glance at her. She had grown terribly thin in the autumn, but her tall, erect figure seemed to have regained some of its maidenly softness and quiet grace. Her pale face had a.s.sumed the expression from her youth of calm and gentleness, which hid a deep, tense wariness. She had taken on an oddly phantomlike resemblance to the young Kristin from that Christmastime so long ago. Simon gripped her hand hard, unaware that he was doing so until she squeezed his fingers in return. He looked up. She smiled and nodded, and he understood that she had interpreted the pressure of his hand as a reminder that she must remain brave-and now she was trying to show him that she would.

When the holy days were over, Kristin went out to the convent and asked to be allowed to pay her respects to the abbess and to those sisters who were still living there since she had left. She then spent a little time in the abbess's parlatory. Afterwards she went into the church. She realized that there was nothing for her to gain inside the walls of the convent. The sisters had received her kindly, but she saw that for them she was merely one of the many young maidens who had spent a year there. If they had heard any talk about her distinguishing herself from the rest of the young daughters in any way, and not for the better, they made no mention of it. But that year at Nonneseter, which loomed so large in her own life, meant so little in the life of the cloister. Her father had bought for himself and his family a place in the convent's prayers of intercession for their souls. The new abbess, Fru Elin, and the sisters said that they would pray for her and for her husband's salvation. But Kristin saw that she had no right to force her way in and disturb the nuns with her visits. Their church stood open to her, as it did to everyone; she could stand in the north aisle and listen to the singing of the pure women's voices from the choir; she could look around the familiar room, at the altars and pictures. And when the sisters left the church through the door to the convent courtyard, she could go up and kneel before the gravestone of Abbess Groa Guttormsdatter and think about the wise, powerful, and dignified mother whose words she had neither understood nor heeded. She had no other rights in this women's residence for Christ's servants.

At the end of the holy days, Sir Munan came to see Kristin. He said he had just learned that she was in Oslo. He greeted her heartily, as he did Simon Andressn and Ulf, whom he kept calling his kinsman and dear friend. He thought it would be difficult for them to win permission to see Erlend; he was being kept under tight guard. Munan himself had not succeeded in gaining access to his cousin. But after the knight had ridden off, Ulf said with a laugh that he thought Munan probably hadn't tried very hard-he was so deathly afraid of being mixed up in the case that he hardly dared hear mention of it. Munan had aged greatly; he was quite bald and gaunt, and his skin hung loosely on his large frame. He was living out at Skogheim, with one of his unlawful daughters, who was a widow. Munan would have liked to be rid of her because none of his other children, lawful or unlawful, would come near him as long as this half-sister was managing his household. She was a domineering, avaricious, and sharp-tongued woman. But Munan didn't dare ask her to leave.

Finally, around New Year's, Olav Kyrning obtained permission for Kristin and Simon to see Erlend. It was again Simon's lot to escort the sorrowful wife to these heartbreaking meetings. The guards were much more careful here than they were in Nidaros not to let Erlend speak to anyone without the chieftain's men being present.

Erlend was calm, as before, but Simon could see that the situation was now beginning to wear him down. He never complained; he said he suffered no privations and was treated as well as was allowed, but he admitted that the cold bothered him a good deal; there was no hearth fire in the room. And there was little he could do to keep himself clean-although, he jested, if he hadn't had the lice to fight with, the time might have pa.s.sed much more slowly out there.

Kristin too was calm-so calm that Simon held his breath with fear, waiting for the day when she would completely fall apart.

King Magnus was making his royal tour of Sweden, and there was little prospect that he would return to his homeland anytime soon, or that there would be any change in Erlend's situation.

On Saint Gregor's Day Kristin and Ulf Haldorssn had been to church at Nonneseter. On their way home, as they crossed the bridge over the convent creek, she did not take the road to their hostel, which lay near the bishop's citadel; instead, she turned east toward the lane near Saint Clement's Church and headed along the narrow alleyways between the church and the river.

The day was hazy and gray, and a thaw had set in, so their footwear and the hems of their cloaks grew quickly soaked and heavy from the yellow mud near the river. They reached the fields along the riverbank. Once their eyes met. Ulf laughed softly and a kind of smirk appeared on his lips, but his eyes were sad; Kristin gave him an odd, sickly smile.

A moment later they were standing on the ridge of a hill; the earth had given way out here sometime before, and the farm now lay right below the hill-so close to the dirty-yellow slope, covered with tufts of black, dried weeds, that the rank stench from the pigsty, which they were looking down at, rose up toward them. Two fat sows were wallowing around in the dark muck. The riverbank was only a narrow strip here; the gray, murky current of the river, filled with careening ice floes, ran right up to the dilapidated buildings with the faded rooftops.

As they stood there, a man and a woman came walking over to the fenced area and looked at the pigs; the man leaned over and scratched one of the sows with the haft of the silver-chased, thin-bladed axe he was using as a staff. It was Munan Baardsn himself, and the woman was Brynhild Fluga. He looked up and noticed them. He stood there gaping, until Kristin shouted a merry greeting down to him.

Sir Munan began to bellow with laughter.

"Come down and have a hot ale in this vile weather," he called.

On their way down to the farmyard fence, Ulf told Kristin that Brynhild Jonsdatter no longer kept an inn or an alehouse. She had been in trouble several times and was finally threatened with flogging, but Munan had come to her rescue and vouched for her; she promised to stop all her unlawful activities. And her sons now held such positions that, for their sake, their mother had to think about improving her reputation. After the death of his wife, Munan Baardsn had taken up with Brynhild again and was often over at Flugagaard.

He met them at the gate.

"All four of us are kinsmen, after a fashion," he chuckled. He was slightly drunk, but not overly so. "You're a good woman, Kristin Lavransdatter, pious but not at all haughty. Brynhild is now an honorable and respectable woman too. And I was an unmarried man when I produced the two sons we have together-and they're the most splendid of all my children. That's what I've told you every single day in all these years, Brynhild. I'm more fond of Inge and Gudleik than any of my other children. . . ."

Brynhild was still beautiful, but her skin was sallow and looked as if it would be clammy to the touch, thought Kristin-the way it does after standing over a pot of grease all day long. But her house was well-kept, the food and drink she set on the table were excellent, and the crockery was pleasing and clean.

"Yes, I drop by over here whenever I have business in Oslo," said Munan. "A mother likes to hear news of her sons, you see. Inge writes to me himself, because he's a learned man, Inge-a bishop's envoy has to be, you know. . . . I found him a good match too: Tora Bjarnesdatter from Grjote. Do you think many men could have acquired such a woman for their b.a.s.t.a.r.d son? So we sit here and talk about that, and Brynhild brings in the food and ale for me, just like in the old days, when she wore my keys at Skogheim. It's hard to sit out there now and think about my blessed wife . . . So I ride over here to find some solace-when Brynhild here has a mind to grant me a little kindness and warmth."

Ulf Haldorssn was sitting with his chin in his hand and gazing at the mistress of Husaby. Kristin sat and listened, answering quietly and gently and courteously-just as calm and refined as if she were a guest at one of the grand estates back home in Trndelag.

"Well, Kristin Lavransdatter, you won honor and the name of wife," said Brynhild Fluga, "even though you came willingly enough to meet Erlend up in my loft. But I was called a wanton and loose woman all my days; my stepmother sold me into the hands of that man there-I bit and fought, and the scratches from my fingernails marked his face before he had his way with me."

"Are you going to bring that up again?" fretted Munan. "You know full well . . . I've told you so many times before . . . I would have let you go in peace if you had behaved properly and begged me to spare you, but you rushed at my face like a wildcat before I had even stepped inside the door."

Ulf Haldorssn chuckled to himself.